Sword
by stringsofwords09
Summary: Some birthday fluff with Mary and Bash.


"What's going on in there?" Mary asked curiously. She peeked through the door to the great hall, which opened just a crack. She could see the King, and some servants. And also the brown hair lady Francis had called 'Aunt Diane.' That seemed to irritate the Queen, but Mary couldn't see Catherine inside now, in any case.

"Oh, that's just my older brother's party," Francis told her, shrugging. "It's a small affair. Not much fun for us. Want to go see the horses at the stables?" He pulled at her hair.

But Mary didn't notice. "They're having a party without you?" she asked, sticking her head farther into the room. _That was odd,_ she thought. Mary _loved_ parties. Unfortunately, if Francis wasn't invited, then she certainly wasn't, either.

"It's his birthday but they always make it small. Not to outshine my birthday, you see." He waited for his friend impatiently. She had barely been at the castle two days, but he soon realized that she was very strong minded. And once Mary set her stubborn chin on something, there was no way to oppose her. But he didn't see what the big deal was. His birthday was in just over a month, and it would be a splendid affair. She could party then!

"Come on, Mary!" he urged. "Let's go riding!"

"I don't want to go riding," she said, peeved. Francis was always trying to boss her around. "Suit yourself," he said, and Mary watched as he walked down the hall to the stairs. She rolled her eyes, and turned back to her snooping. She spotted Francis's brother - Sebastian was it? - sitting at a small table next to the King. He was unwrapping a long, thin parcel, and she was curious as to what was inside. It sparkled, and Mary squinted to see better.

Sebastian let out a triumphant whoop as the wrapping fell away. "A sword! I can't believe it! Father, thank you." He hugged the King, who grinned back at him. "Nine years old today, and you wield a sword better than half my guard. Make good use of it, Bash."

The boy nodded happily, and then winced after receiving a sloppy kiss from his mother. Mary giggled. Swords were stupid; of course a boy would be excited over a metal toy. Not that she wouldn't want to play with it, too. He must of heard her snort, because Bash looked up sharply, and their eyes met. _Uh-oh,_ she thought.

Bash waited a moment for his parents and the servants to be distracted, and slipped away from the table. He made his way over to the doorway, where the pretty little girl stood, spying on him. Her eyes widened when he emerged suddenly beside her in a flash, and she started to run off. Where had he come from so quickly? "Hey, don't go!" he called to her, stepping deeper into the hall.

Mary paused. "Are you going to tattle on me?" she asked shyly. "I wasn't invited to your party." Sebastian laughed at her. "I'm no snitch," he assured her. "Hi. I'm Sebastian," he held out his hand, rather formally for his age. "But you can call me Bash."

She took his hand and shook it firmly. He liked that. "Hello, Bash. I am Mary," she said matter of factly. "Your Majesty," he honored her, bowing his head until it touched the ground. Mary giggled at this, and he smiled as he swung back up.

"No, no, please," she said in between her giggles. "I'm just Mary. I won't be a boring Queen till I'm old."

"Then I'll call you Mary."

"Is today your birthday?" she asked him.

Bash nodded. "Yes. I'm nine today. My mum made me a small party."

"That's not fair," she said, her hands on her hips, knitting her brow. "Birthdays are supposed to be giant, fantastic celebrations!"

"I'm not sure everyone at the castle celebrates me," he said, frowning at his glittering new sword. It was more than half his height, but Mary thought he wielded it rather well. "Would you like to join?" he asked her. "There's plenty of cake."

Mary shook her head.

"Too bad," he said. "Don't you like parties?"

"I love parties!" she gushed, clapping her hands together. She peeked into the room at the King, who looked intimidating in his furs and crown. "I don't think I'm allowed…"

"Okay," he told her. "I guess it's too boring for you anyway. Girls always fuss too much for parties. Queen Catherine once tried to smack me when I asked her how old she was." Mary thought he was brave for talking to the Queen. "But I ducked," he said in afterthought.

"My sixth birthday party just passed in Scotland, and it wasn't too fussy!" she argued, "you would have liked it. But next year, maybe you'll come celebrate with me?"

"Sure," he agreed, brightening at once.

"Do you promise?" she asked.

"I promise. But don't expect any presents."

"Nothing?" Mary implored sadly. "Can I at least play with your new sword?"

He held it out for her to touch, and was just about to respond, when they heard voices calling for him. "Bash!" called out the King. "Come see what your mother got you."

"Bye now, Mary," the bastard whispered, and he dashed away to be with his family.

A forget-me-not blue sky, birds chirping merrily, the crisp air, and flowers in full bloom: it was a good day. Mary stretched back lazily outside on the castle grass, laughing and chatting with her friends. They sat near the castle's practice arena, where various guards were training in their swordplay. It was truly the start of the best birthday. She was sixteen now, barely of age, but she could not be happier here with her friends in France.

"What a day," sighed Greer. "A wonderful breakfast feast, gifts from Francis and Henry, beautiful weather… and it's barely even started, Mary. I'm so excited for tonight!"

Mary grinned back at her friends. They had spent their morning opening presents from King Henry, Francis, even parcels sent overseas from Scotland, England, and Spain. Her ladies weren't ignored; some of jewelry was sent to them as well. And the celebration… the party tonight was rumored to be the most extravagant affair France had ever seen. Catherine, surprisingly, had pulled out all the stops. Packages of decorations, flowers, even dresses, and carts of food had slowly arrived to the castle since early last month. No one at French court had never seen such an abundance of luxury.

Greer and Kenna compared notes on their choices of gowns, with Aylee listened to them attentively. Lola was admiring Mary's new necklace. It was a gift from her mother, and had arrived only last night. Small turquoise stones, set in thin silver and gold wound their way around her neck. "It pairs beautifully with your dress, Mary. But hopefully no grass stains to match."

Mary laughed, and looked down at her white dress. It was no concern, and she would change for the party, anyway. And today was about being carefree. Lola nudged her, and she looked up as Francis walked by them to enter the pit. He nodded at the girls. She watched him for a time, tuning out her friends, as he expertly sparred with an older guard. She sighed, remembering her duties.

"Good morning." The girls and Mary looked up again, to smile at Sebastian's friendlier greeting as he made his way past their small cluster.

"Hello, Bash," Mary smiled, "it _is_ a good morning."

"Ah, that's right. A very happy birthday, Your Grace." He bowed deeply.

"Mary," she corrected him. "What are you doing out here?"

The handmaiden watched their queen curiously, contemplating her familiarity with the older son.

"Excellent question." Bash held up a practice sword for them to see, "I am about to play with this dangerous wooden toy." He pointed it in the direction of the pit and did a mock-salute, "it makes me a man, really." He nodded at them, "Well, good day ladies, Queen Mary." And he set off to meet his brother.

"Isn't he just a dream?" sighed Kenna, while Greer nodded subtly.

Mary watched in amusement as Greer and Kenna eagerly opened the rest of her gifts. She needed to express her gratitude to anyone she met at the party tonight, and the girls were more than eager to oblige.

"If this ring becomes too much for you, I can take it off your hands, Mary."

She laughed as Kenna held out her hand where the latest bauble now encased her middle finger. "I'll let you borrow it sometime," she replied with a wink.

"It's almost time to go down, girls!" said Aylee, peering out into the halls. "We should hurry."

"Oh, go on girls," sighed Mary, "As the guest of honor, I believe I am supposed to arrive fashionably late." And so she watched as they did some last minute fidgeting with their hair and makeup and followed the servants out the door.

Mary fixed her hair, tousling it carefully into waves. She looked herself over one last time in the mirror. It was time to go, but she wasn't ready just yet. Would it be risky to take one quick stroll outside… The grounds were always so inviting at sunset. She took a quick glance out the window, and to her surprise, spotted Sebastian, still in the practice arena. Curiosity got the best of her; she would take that walk now.

What was he doing outside, this late? Mary neatened the skirts of her long silver dress. It was sleeveless, and she felt the evening chill down her arms. She shivered, and walked hurriedly through the courtyard. But, when she reached the arena, it was empty.

"Running away from your celebration?"

He always seemed to spot her first. Mary turned as Bash appeared, standing behind her with his sword. "Sebastian," she greeted him. He was still dressed in his worn tunic from earlier, with scuffed boots, and, of all things, grass stains on his trousers. She smiled at that. "Are you hiding out here?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, taking in her dress and how it narrowed at the waist. The blue necklace around her neck offset her throat most elegantly. He tried not to stare. "I'm allowed to be late for these things. And you know I'm not drawn to a large party. You look lovely tonight, by the way. "

She smiled. "What about you?" he asked her curiously. Now she shrugged. "On this occasion, my tardiness is also acceptable. And I fancied a walk."

"I would not have guessed that little Mary would shy away from a party, let alone her own…"

She chuckled and held out her hands. "You know, I never did get to play with your sword. And you did promise." Bash grinned, a warm glint in his eyes. "You have a faulty recollection, Your Grace. I said I'd attend your birthday party, I made no promises of swordplay. I even swore off all gifts."

"It's Mary. And you would have offered, you know it!" She smacked his shoulder lightly. "Nine year old Bash clearly adored this six year old Queen."

"And how did a six year old Mary find the King's bastard?"

He wasn't prying, she knew. "She was intrigued by him," Mary admitted. "She didn't understand what it meant to be a royal or a commoner. She just wanted him to be able to celebrate loudly and extravagantly, like his brother would do at his birthday party."

"And do you see the difference between us now?" His tone was kind, and Mary understood that Bash did not expect anything from her.

"Absolutely. In every possible way."

"Wonderful. Now that's out of the way, I think it's high time that the Queen of Scotland finally learn how to wield a sword. Remind her that even royals should get their hands dirty."

"Excuse me, I can get my hands dirty!" she crossed her arms indignantly.

"I know, Mary. And that is why this will be my birthday gift to you. I do hope you have a backup dress, just in case?"


End file.
